


Set Fire to the Third Bar

by resakaye



Category: None - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:20:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resakaye/pseuds/resakaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the Martha Wainwright/Snow Patrol song...it all just came out in a late night 20 minute writing spree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set Fire to the Third Bar

She struggled to remember what his voice sounded like. After months of texting, emailing, communiqués that should never have happened…. To finally get a sense of his movements, she laid out a map of the country on her kitchen table, placed soup cans on the edges to hold them down, and slowly, deliberately laid finger-lengths between their distance, and asterisked where he should be. She placed her index finger to her lips and pressed it to the map. In one stroke she both smudged the mark and inked it, and the dark regions of the country into which she had never imagined traveling, onto herself. 

She drove all night. Stopping at the first place that was open. A bar that could barely pass the food service grades to remain open, and in which elderly men were drinking hard liquor at 11am when she awoke and checked out. She vaguely recalled a pass at the “absurdity of evolution” as she closed her tab and kept on her way. It felt like days. It WAS days, but barely two, with only a brief stop for coffee and a kneecapping, when a kind counterlady kept refilling her cup and a rude trucker had refused to accept that she was rejecting his advances. No, in reality, it felt like DOZENS of days. Waiting to see him. Waiting to touch him. Waiting to taste him again. 

Then, he was there. There was the parking lot, then that third bar, then the world melted. Then she remembered every word he had ever said and every inflection he had ever placed on them. She was with him, and he was the world. And he was hers. Bodies became body and souls became soul. Nothing between them was not shared. Whereas every moment of her life had felt alone on the cold floor, his warm arms were home. At one point lucid dreaming captured them both, and bodies that had been weak but souls were still willing took advantage of each other once again. 

She awoke, crying and alone. Yet the tears weren’t because of his absence. They were joy, her entire body seeping happiness from the night before. This was a completeness she could again wait years for.


End file.
